


Understand His Clothes

by EagleInFlight



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Bonding with Future-Father-In-Law, David and Clint bonding time, I don't understand his clothes, M/M, OOOOOHHH BUT HE TRIES, Pure sap, precious love, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-18 01:35:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21503110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EagleInFlight/pseuds/EagleInFlight
Summary: Clint: I don't understand his clothes, but...Patrick: Ah, you will in time.David doesn't know how to react when his future father-in-law tries to understand his clothes.
Relationships: Clint Brewer & David Rose, Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 20
Kudos: 324





	Understand His Clothes

**Author's Note:**

> This was kind of a joke idea that transformed into a fluffy and sweet fic. Hope you guys enjoy it.

“Don’t leave me here alone,” David pleaded harshly under his breath as Patrick headed for the door. He hated how his voice seemed to almost come out in a whine, but he didn’t care, he was desperate for Patrick to change his mind and stay.

Marcy and Clint shared a quick peck on the lips on the other side of the room.

“David...” Patrick said in that hushed tone where he knew David was being ridiculous but still loved him for it anyway. “You’ll be fine. We’re only be gone for a little bit. You’ll survive.”

“That’s unclear at this point,” David said. He wanted to add that it wouldn’t be his fault if Patrick’s dad suddenly decided to withdraw his support for their wedding but Marcy approached them and David kept his mouth shut. He threw her a smile, hoping it didn’t look too panicked or forced and stepped back from Patrick.

His fiancé was _not_ getting a goodbye kiss.

Patrick shook his head in amusement as if he knew what was going on in David's mind. “Don’t have too much fun without us,” Patrick tossed over his shoulder as he and Marcy left the motel room.

That snarky little traitor. Didn’t Patrick know it was incorrect to leave your fiancé alone in a motel room with his future father-in-law when they barely knew each other?

Didn’t David warn Patrick that he was better with moms than he was with dads? Moms love him. Moms adore him. Dads...not so much. Granted, David never really met the parents of the person he was dating, but this was different. These parents were going to be around for a long time. David and Marcy seemed to hit it off really well, especially during their phone conversations when she called the store. Apart from their brief interaction during Patrick’s birthday party, David never really spoken to Clint.

When Patrick suggested going for a quick hike, Marcy had eagerly accepted and Clint declined. Apparently, Clint wasn’t really an outdoorsy person like Marcy and Patrick were, which surprised David, because he seemed like that kind of guy.

David slowly turned back to Clint who had dug back into the cinnamon roll that David had brought over for them from the lobby. He glanced up at the ceiling, trying to summon every ounce of courage before he joined Clint at the table. He already ate two cinnamon rolls and he wasn’t _that_ hungry—but David took another roll out from the box, picking it apart with his fingers.

It was silent and David was tempted to fill it. He didn’t know Clint well enough to know if it was awkward silence or comfortable or what if Clint was mulling over how to tell David to break up his engagement with Patrick and leave his son?

David took a bite that was way too big for his mouth and tried to cover his mouth to hide his pathetic attempts in chewing. He couldn’t believe he was shame-eating in front of Clint! He swallowed thickly and winced at the slight pain in his throat. Clint handed David a fresh water bottle with a controlled smile on his features.

_Oh, somebody kill me now._

David drank down his mortification with the water.

“So...” Clint drawled out and David inwardly pleaded for it to not be the start of awkward small talk. “You said these rolls were made by someone in town.”

Fuck. It was small talk. David bobbed his head. “Yep. There are people that will shockingly surprise you with some rare bouts of talent in this town. I mean, you would know, you saw _Cabaret._ ” David, shut up.

Clint chuckled. “I felt like I had a seat on Broadway.”

“Okay, that comment was an insult to all the people of Broadway.”

“Oh, then I withdraw my remarks.”

David froze. Is...this where Patrick got his smart-mouth from? Okay. Maybe this won’t be as bad as he thought.

Clint made a few more comments about _Cabaret,_ more on how impressed he was with Patrick’s performance which David could agree with, and asked polite questions in how David’s mom was doing, and if Alexis made it to the Galapagos Islands safely, and how Johnny was managing the motel. David gave most of those questions a simple one-sentence response because he didn’t trust himself to get into details when it came to talking about his own family.

He needed to impress his future father-in-law, not scare him off.

The silence returned.

David’s stomach ached at eating that third cinnamon roll and he debated whether or not to grab a fourth one.

Okay. Maybe David should ask Clint some questions. Were the Brewers retired? Or still working? David couldn’t remember. But they talked about it last night, didn’t they? He should really ask a question now, or eat that last cinnamon roll, or say anything really to fill th—

“What was that thing you were wearing last night?”

David blinked. What? He pursed his lips and narrowed his gaze. “Um, excuse me?”

Clint’s eyes looked a little wide as if he hadn’t meant to ask that question out loud. Was he feeling just as uncomfortable as David was? Clint rubbed his hand across his mouth. “I was curious. I’ve never seen anything like that before. What were you wearing around your pants?”

Were they really going to talk about this? Was David really going to indulge him? Patrick owed him _so_ much.

“It’s a, uh, Rick Owens black cotton blend skirt layered trousers.”

“Hmm. And the shirt?”

“Oh, just a Rick Owens white ribbed sweater. I really like him for his grungy aesthetic.”

“Right.” Clint nodded and David thought it was the end of that. Until Clint tilted his head. “Is it comfortable?”

“Excuse me?”

“Do you wear them for the aesthetics or are they really comfortable or is it something else?”

Were they really having a discussion about David’s clothes?

David cleared his throat, wondering how to answer that. He wore these clothes because he was the son of billionaires, it was what high-class people wore. The real truth was David liked them, he liked the designs and how they were made in France or Italy or other places outside of China. But the stupid synapses in his brain decided not to fire properly. As evident from the words that came out next from David’s mouth:

“Do you want to try them on and see for yourself?”

Clint blinked at him, shocked.

David’s mouth worked. How was he going to backtrack himself out of _that_ one?

“Sure.”

What?

“Okay.” David’s singular response came out high-pitch.

Which is how David found himself in the love room, sitting on the bed that he had sex on with someone who was not Clint’s son ages ago, drumming his fingers along his thighs as he waited for Clint to exit the bathroom.

The door opened and David dropped his hands, glancing up.

Clint walked out, proudly showcasing the black trousers with the skirt layered around the upper legs. He looked a little ridiculous, mostly because he kept on his light-gray wool sweater that didn’t go well with the skirt-trousers.

“Wow. You look, um, bold,” David exclaimed.

Clint smiled and tugged at the skirt. “It’s really comfortable. I’ve never really wore a skirt before. I did wear a kilt at a wedd—”

“Oh, kilts are not skirts. Kilts have a specific design and style tied to a culture. Skirts have multiple designs and styles with a wide-range of fashion choices.”

Clint gave David a patient smile. “I stand corrected.” He ran his hands over the skirt again and chuckled. “This is an interesting fashion choice, David.” He pointed to the closets and racks of David’s other clothes. “You have a lot of them.”

David didn’t know how to interpret that. Was that an observation? Or a polite snide remark at David’s mass collection of clothes? His mind spun at the various implications.

“Oh, yeah, I do. But, um, don’t worry, because I am planning to go through them and get rid of some of them before Patrick and I find our own place so that he’ll have room for his things and...”

“David,” Clint interrupted. He smiled, and holy fuck, that was Patrick’s _you’re-ridiculous-but-I’m-still-fond-of-you_ smile. “These clothes are one of a kind. Don’t get rid of them for the stake of getting rid of them. I have a library worth’s of books at home that take up the whole basement. I’ve probably read all of them once or twice, and Marcy teases me that she’ll never forgive me if I died and she had to deal with all of that.”

“Or Patrick,” David added with a small laugh.

“Exactly.”

The phone buzzed in David’s pocket and he took it out, reading the text he got from Patrick. “Oh. Patrick said he and Mrs. Brewer finished up and will meet us at Café Tropical for lunch.”

Clint clasped his hands together. “Sounds good. That restaurant has a wide assortment of choices. I’ve been wanting to try the mozzarella sticks.”

David stammered nonsense as Clint headed toward the door, still dressed in David’s skirt-trousers. “Um, don’t you want to change?” 

Clint glanced down at it then glanced up at David with a sheepish look. “Do you mind if I try it out the rest of the day?”

Huh? What? Who was this man?

“Sure.”

He beamed and headed out the door, leaving behind a very bewildered David.

* * *

David sat on the couch in Patrick’s apartment, playing with the four golden rings on his fingers as he waited for Patrick to finish brushing his teeth in the bathroom. David just wanted to do his nightly skincare routine and put this day behind him.

He twisted the ring on his upper ring finger, replaying what happened throughout the day with Clint over and over in his head.

“David?”

David shot his gaze up toward Patrick who was giving him a worried look.

“The bathroom’s yours. Unless...” Patrick took a seat next to David with a comforting right hand trailing down David’s back. “There’s something you need to talk about?”

David shook his head. “No. Everything’s fine. I’m just tired. It’s been a long day.”

“Hmm-hmm,” Patrick responded. He rubbed David’s upper back, waiting, waiting, and David vowed he wouldn’t break, to keep it together and...

“Is there a joke being made here that I’m not aware of?” he blurted out.

Patrick’s brows pinched.

“Like does your dad have a weird sense of humor that I’m just not getting?”

“Oh.” The lines on Patrick’s forehead smoothed out and he buried his face into his hands. “Yeah, it’s been a while since he’d done that.”

“Done what?” David breathed out. Did Clint not like him? Was he making fun of David’s clothes? Trying to subtle tell him that he’s not right for Patrick or...

Patrick lifted his head up and slipped his hands into David’s. “He’s not making fun of you.”

“Okay.” David wasn’t convinced.

Patrick sighed. “It’s his weird way of trying to understand something.”

“Is he trying to understand what you see in me?”

Patrick squeezed his hands. “More like trying to understand you.”

“Oh?”

Patrick groaned. “It’s hard to explain and I don’t mean it in a bad way. It’s...like...” Patrick’s gaze swept across his apartment as if the very reason for his father’s behavior was written somewhere in plain sight. “Like...” He turned back to David. “When I was in middle school, I decided I wanted to join the hockey team. The only sports my dad ever got into was baseball and golf.”

Of course, they were old white men sports.

“My dad wanted to understand why I wanted to join and why I liked it, so he...brought a hockey net and hockey equipment and had a neat little set-up on our pond in the backyard.”

David made a mental note to ask Marcy for these pictures of puberty-approaching Patrick in his little hockey uniform playing on a pond in his backyard. It warmed something in David’s heart and he wanted nothing more than to catch a glimpse of that moment in time.

“My dad brought his own hockey gear to play with me,” Patrick said. He chuckled. “He ended up buying figure skates instead of hockey skates by mistake.”

David bit back the question if there even was a difference.

“I was mortified and embarrassed by it. Mostly because he...sucked really bad. I begged my mom to do something about it. And my mom told me to suck it up and enjoy it. Because my dad was trying to show me that he supported me no matter what, even if we had different tastes, and that he loved me so much that he wanted to understand what I liked and support that.”

David felt tears prickling the corner of his eyes as the weight of Patrick’s words hit him. “Oh?” He inhaled a shaking breath. “So, the clothes situation...”

“He really likes you, David.”

David twisted his lips to the side, trying to control the intense emotions swelling in his chest. Oh. Clint was just a strange odd man with a big heart. And he liked David? “Right. Sure,” David deflected. “I think it’s because he must love _you_ very much.”

“Hmmm. Nope. I think he likes you for _you_ , David,” Patrick disagreed, because he’s a little snot who knows this fact will turn David into a shuddering crying mess.

“Patrick...” David whined and buried his nose into the crease of Patrick’s shoulder as the wave of emotions became too much for David to bear.

Patrick wrapped his arms around David to steady him and act as his anchor. “Be thankful it’s only the clothes this time. He could’ve been asking you for a list of what’s correct and incorrect and try to incorporate that.”

Ugh. David buried his nose deeper into Patrick’s shoulders.

David could actually picture Clint doing that. Maybe he should prepare one, just in case.

* * *

The next morning, when David was half-awake and barely functional as he opened Rose Apothecary, Clint came into the store, holding two to-go coffee cups. He handed one to David.

“Patrick told me your order,” Clint said. And that was it. He left David alone and looked around the store as if he knew that David wouldn’t be a welcoming host. Maybe Patrick warned him of how David was a different person before 10 am.

Still, nice of him to bring the drink. David took a sip and smiled as his usual order warmed his throat. He watched Clint read the labels of the bath salts on display, pursing his lips at a few of them.

David’s brain kicked into gear as the caffeine woke his system up and he noticed that Clint was wearing one of David’s sweaters. He curled his lips inward. It was his Neil Barrett lightning bolts sweater. Oh, god.

His cheeks warmed and he took another sip of his drink.

“You know, you can take that one home if you like it so much,” David found himself saying. His eyes nearly bulged at his words. What did he say that?

Clint took a sip of his coffee and flashed a warm smile at David. “I like this one, it jolts within me a brimming sense of confidence.”

Did Clint make a Dad joke? About David’s clothes?

That was _so_ incorrect.

But, fuck, he really liked his future father-in-law.

“Hmmm. Fair warning, that healthy dose of confidence will transform into unsubstantiated confidence and you’ll be doing something you will probably regret the next morning.”

“And what did you regret?”

Damn, he was good. Just like Patrick.

“There are YouTubes videos of me in that sweater, performing a huge disservice to Mariah Carey’s songs.”

“Ah. Then I’ll wear this in small doses then. I appreciate the warning,” Clint teased.

“Yeah, well,” David mumbled. “You’re welcome.”

“Patrick is taking Marcy hiking to show her where he proposed to you and I don’t do hiking.”

“He didn’t try to bribe you with a picnic?”

“You learn to grow immune to those bribes.”

“Mmmm. Haven’t built up my immunity yet.”

“If there’s one thing I know about you, David,” Clint said. “Is that you won’t ever build that up because you love him way too much.”

David’s chest warmed. Oh. Was that a compliment? A sappy one at that?

“Anyway, I was wondering, do you need help minding the store while I wait for them to return?”

David’s lips twisted into a smile.

“Uh, yeah, that’s...fine,” his voice squeaked.

David didn’t really think about this part. He knew that marrying Patrick meant making a committed lifetime vow to love and cherish each other, but he never really thought about the other part of it. Gaining another family.

He knew Patrick’s parents were nice people and would be civil and treat him with respect but...David never imagined that they would try to incorporate him into their lives and figure out a way to make him fit in.

And Clint's acting like David has been in their lives for years. He watched as Clint moved around the store, taking sips of his coffee every once in a while. A comfortable silence filled in between them.

David felt better knowing that he wasn’t the only one with an eccentric family. Patrick fit easily into the Roses lives liked he belonged and seemed to really enjoy their company.

David smiled, sending a silent thank-you to his father’s ex-business manager for screwing them over.

Because he ended up getting his family back.

And gained a new one through love. 


End file.
